Role Reversal
by Straya
Summary: [Animated LoSH] Brainiac 5 muses on his past and present, examining his place as both a role model and hero worshipper of the Man of Steel.


_Disclaimer: The Legion of Superheroes is property of DC Comics and Warner Bros._

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Author Note: This particular one-shot takes place just after "Fear Factory" and contains speculations about Brainy's past, both my own and some that I've picked up on various website commentaries. I'd like to therefore put forward credit and thanks to Matthew at Legion Abstract for his thoughts on the Legion's timing in retrieving Superman from the past (commentary as reposted with credit on the Legion Omnicom Blog). Enjoy!

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**"Role Reversal"**

Do mechanoids dream? I can assure you that we do. We shut down all but our most vital system processes while in recharge, but the part our system that makes us self aware, the part that creates our subconscious, is still active, able to access old database files and toss bits of binary code about. Most of my people loathe dreams; they are a reminder that we are capable of taking on much more human characteristics. I typically look forward to seeing what sort of random jumble my subconscious will dig up once my optic shutters close for the night, but I could have done without last night's delve into touchy subject matter.

More than likely, I was influenced by Bouncing Boy's marathon of reality television shows on our return from Quavermass 12, but speculation doesn't really wash the bad taste out of my mouth, to use an Earthling phrase. There really isn't anything enjoyable about being the guest star on a reality dating show where you are supposed to convince an aesthetically pleasing female to like you, and your native "family" is present the entire time, heckling your efforts. ...not that I was doing a spectacular job to begin with, given my lack of experience with activities such as dating. I have enough difficulty just making _friends_ at times.

Note to self: put a program safety lock on those databanks holding memory based material that may make shut down period uncomfortable.

Sliding off the edge of my recharge berth, I flexed my fingers and rolled my shoulders in their sockets to work out the kinks before catching the sounds of a heated debate out in the hallway. My sense of hearing is superior to that of humans, but I could not pick up on exactly what was being said. I could tell, however, that it was a debate between Lightning Lad and Bouncing Boy and that they were in the dorm hall near my door.

Well, I supposed I could wait another few minutes to make my way to the central room. Truth be told, what noise I could pick up was making my audio receptors ache. And I was positive my less than stellar night's sleep was not helping matters.

Walking to a full size mirror bolted to the wall near my charging berth, I took a moment to examine my reflection. Such a practice had been daily habit ever since I decided that I no longer wished to look like the rest of my people. I really don't know why this had become habit, either... Did I expect to wake up one day and suddenly appear perfectly human? My core pulsed faintly at the thought, but I knew it was illogical for such a thing to occur.

_...illogical._

For a short time in my life before I left Colu behind, I had actually come to hate the word and all it stood for... I will never admit it out loud, but sometimes having a twelfth level intelligence can be just as much of a curse as it is a blessing. The average intelligence quotient on the universal scale among Coluans is ninth level, one step up from that of modern day, thirty-first century Earthlings. So when I came into being, it was expected that my incredible intellect would assist in bringing glory to my people. But with my smarts came a curiosity about the universe around me that could not be sated with any degree of research. No data files could ever substitute themselves for real life, real time experiences.

Organics are not as intelligent, they claimed. Human beings are emotional and therefore illogical and flawed. But despite the collective processing power of my people, they could not see the greater truth before them - that logic by its very nature is not necessarily _just and right_. Logic dictates, for example, that the easiest way to prevent further complications with an enemy is to destroy him or her. However, is the destruction of another sentient being the correct path?

In researching all I could to learn about my ancestry and the universe I existed in, I discovered the word "honor" and its myriad of applications. To me, it was a word associated with righteousness, with justice, with equality. And many other cultures were familiar with it, whereas my own was so concerned with cold, hard logic that honor was nearly a foreign concept. And to this day, they still are obsessed with logic. Besides, "honor" was not really something we were familiar with at our very roots.

To put it mildly, my ancestral line appalled me. The only good to come out of learning the truth was that I came into contact with information about a champion known as "Superman." And the moment I began absorbing information about this alien hero, I was filled with the desire to amend the wrongs my greatest ancestor had brought down on so many. Superman embodied honor, and he had inspired so many to fight alongside him...not for what was _logical_, but for what was _right_. I struggled to understand how one could be a champion of the heart, trying to fathom how to balance my natural tendency towards logic with my deep desire to let my emotions become a part of the equation.

And it was then I knew that I would have to leave Colu if I was to ever follow my own path and connect properly with the emotions I was beginning to discover.

I changed my appearance first, knowing that a mechanoid of my size would not fit in so easily amongst the people I wished to observe and emulate. At first, I merely altered my height and width, utilizing subspace and complex transformation sequences to change my appearance. But it wasn't enough. I still felt so alien, so distant. I continued to work on the problem, modeling myself after a young teenage human, indicative of my actual youth. Having hair and managing to conceal more of my mechanical seams helped greatly, but I eventually reached a point where I was forced to stop. I knew the changes in my appearance could be taken farther, but I also realized that altering my outside did not change my inside. Fooling others could potentially be easy, but I could never fool myself.

Joining the Legion was probably my greatest step towards connecting with my developing emotions. As aggravated as I can presently become with Bouncing Boy's antics or with Lightning Lad's attitude, back then I had never been closely surrounded by emotions so constantly in flux before. And the group stood for all the values that Superman had once fought so hard to preserve.

So I could hardly believe it when I had my chance to meet my ultimate role model. Containing my excitement was more difficult than I care to admit and I'm almost sure Saturn Girl picked up on it before I could hide it. Yet, in the midst of an amazing opportunity, I knew I had to be cautious. If we chose the wrong moment in the past to retrieve Superman, he would recognize my name and associate it with the sins of my ancestor. My chance to know the man who inspired me to be different would be lost.

And that was when I convinced the rest of the Legion that I would find the optimum moment to find and retrieve Superman. We would take him from Smallville before he learned the full extent of his powers, before he met my ancestor.

Before the name "Brainiac" became tainted.

Now I find myself in the day to day wonder and struggle that is being both someone's mentor and possibly one of their greatest fans, simultaneously. Superman has been my role model for most of my existence, and yet now he is relying on the rest of us to serve as _his_ role models in all his future "heroing" endeavors. There are times it's difficult not to tell him of my ancestry, or even to just go on and on about how much his historical AND even mythical exploits changed my life.

I argue with myself daily about whether or not Clark should ever know the truth. It may turn out that when we return him to his own time, Saturn Girl will have to erase his memory of us, of what exactly happened here. And he will live out his life, learning to associate the name of Brainiac with oppression and cold logic. Yet, it will be his battles against my ancestor that will lead me to become what I am now.

Time is odd that way. And even with my twelfth level intelligence, it causes my processors to ache.

I only hope that I am granted enough time to become a true friend to Superman before he returns to the twenty-first century. We have so very much in common between our two situations, despite our differing time frames and origins. Both of us know all too well how it is to be completely out of place, struggling to know yourself while the rest of your world hems you in, telling you that you cannot be different, that the logical and _safe_ thing to do is merely to blend in and be just like everyone else.

And in the end, Superman will be the true face of the man we brought here, not Clark Kent. For the real "Man of Steel" is caring, compassionate and just, unafraid to be himself.

I glanced up at my reflection again, one hand reaching up to brush my blond bangs from my face.

Still, while Superman manages to hide behind the visage of Clark Kent for now, my real body hides behind a tangible facade of my own creation. Or is this truly who I have become? Is this face, one framed by synthetic hair and shaped more like that of a teenage human male, the true face of Brainiac 5? ...does it even matter as much as I thought it used to? Even after all this time, I still struggle.

Sighing, I checked my internal chronometer and realized I had spent more time in front of the mirror than I originally intended. The others would be wondering why I had not yet emerged from my quarters for the day. Turning away, I headed for the door.

As I walked the hall towards the main room, I couldn't help but remember one other thing about all of my research involving Earth and Superman shortly after I left Colu. Almost by chance in my quest to learn how I could become more human, I stumbled across the fictional tale of a wooden puppet who was granted life through magic, who became a real human child when he had proven himself through an act of great kindness and sacrifice.

Well, I was trying, wasn't I? The Legion led me into battles on a near daily basis that required both sacrifice and acts of compassion. Maybe some day...

_No. Illogical._

"Hey, Brainy! 'Bout time you got up." Bouncing Boy was waiting by his usual chair, Lightning Lad, Saturn Girl, Phantom Girl and Superman nearby. "All's quiet on all fronts for now, so we were thinkin' about goin' down to the new Retro Fun Park that opened in town. Mini-golf and laser tag! You game?"

At first, I wanted to debate the logic of simulating a laser battle when we were all too often caught in real firefights, but I fought the urge down and managed to find it in myself to smile. "I guess it would be acceptable to let the automated defense systems monitor the surrounding area for an hour or two."

The others failed to hide their surprise, expecting me to protest the activity as a waste of time, but finding time for recreation with friends is what real teenagers do, isn't it?

I will never wake up to have miraculously become human overnight, but I can wake up every morning with a renewed interest in pursuing my own humanity. And whether they are my role models or my students, the other Legionnaires, including Superman, are my team mates. And should Superman learn the horrible truth of my line or should my people ever return to claim me, the Legion will be there.


End file.
